


A Captive Audience

by NLMouse



Category: Original Work
Genre: Exhibitionism, Other, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:22:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1080967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NLMouse/pseuds/NLMouse





	A Captive Audience

I sit waiting in the dark for you to come home; perched on the edge of the kitchen chair facing the front door. I hear your car pull into the driveway and the engine cutting off, the car door closing, and the key in the lock. I stand up and take a quick look at myself reflected in the dark glass of the kitchen window, wearing nothing except a black lace thong and matching bra, and make my way to meet you as you step inside.

You start to say something, but my finger is immediately at your lips, and I give you the look that lets you know I mean business. Within a few short moments, you are down to just your underwear; jacket, shoes, clothes, socks left in a pile at the front door. You reach out to touch me but I catch your hand, giving you another warning look – your hand falls to your side. I stand for a moment in front of you, observing the effect my actions have had on you, the look of want swept across your face, shortened breaths, your erection straining against the thin cotton of your underwear. Each one pleases me.

I reach down and take your hand, leading you away from the discarded clothes, down the dark hall to the bedroom, where a tiny sliver of faint light is cast onto the hallway floor through the door only open a crack. Letting go of your hand, I turn to face you again, instructing you to remove your underwear, an order which you eagerly oblige. I push the door open, giving you a first glace of what I have in store for you.

The room is empty but for the bed, which is draped in a crisp white sheet, the side table with a lamp casting soft light, and an armed chair situated in the corner facing the bed. You’re told to sit. You do. I kneel in front of you between the bed and the chair and look up into your face. From between the mattresses I pull a black silk scarf and two lengths of cord. Your eyes widen, and without being instructed, you place your hands along the arms of the chair in anticipation. I secure your arms, and tie the scarf across your eyes. Once I am satisfied you can not see and are unable to free yourself from your binds, I stand and quietly leave the room.

I return a few minutes later, and you turn your head towards me even though you can’t see through the blindfold. When I reach you, I place one hand half way up each of your thighs and lean into you, my mouth at your ear, my warm breath on your neck. I ask in a barely audible whisper if you trust me, to which you respond with an eager nod of your head. I smile to myself, stand up straight, and remove the scarf from your eyes, letting it fall down your chest to rest in a pool around your erection.

A lustful smile crosses your lips as you look at me. I am standing directly in front of you, close enough for you to reach out and touch if your hands were not bound. I am now completely naked, the soft light from the table lamp highlighting the curve of my hips from behind. And then the shadow changes and you realize suddenly that we are no longer alone in the room. A multitude of emotions cross your face in a split second, shock, jealousy, anxiety, acceptance, and finally returning to raw lust.

I turn and take my place on the bed with our guest; two players on a stage with an intimate audience of one, lit by a single spot light. He greets me with a hungry kiss as his hands roam freely over my body. His touch is experienced, and you can tell immediately that he and I are not strangers. Our movements are familiar and rehearsed, a connected rhythm and trust that can only be built over time. We run through an array of activities: mouths on skin, licking sucking, tasting; the sigh and moans from the bed echoed by our lone spectator; positions flowing seamlessly into each other, the intensity building to a certain climax.

Just before culmination I break away from our special guest, and return to my former position standing in front of you. My hands return to your legs and I lower myself to look into your eyes. I can see my own lust reflected back at me as your eyes plead with me. My fellow player stands behind me, runs his hand over my back to rest on my hip and he slips easily inside me for the grand finale. His thrusts are urgent; the release only moments away now. I never break eye contact with you as I am finally pushed over the edge, giving into my orgasm as waves of pleasure take control of me. Followed closely by a moan from behind me signaling my partner's own release.

As soon as I am able to stand on my own, I lead the other man from the room. I don’t look at you again, leaving you alone in the room. I say good night to my companion and send him on his way; his duty for the night is fulfilled.

As the hot water of the shower pours over me, I think of what is going through your mind, alone in the dark room. I don’t dry myself, but return to the bedroom, eager to know your response to the night's events.

You still have the raw look in your eyes as I kneel in front of your chair one more time. I smile, but it is not returned by your own mouth. I slowly raise my hands to the ties that bind your hands to the chair and free you. You’re standing immediately and pulling me to my feet, only to throw me to the bed.

The audience demands an encore.

 


End file.
